


Time Leaves Me Behind Sometimes

by MCUsic_to_my_ears



Series: Continuum [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Awesome Clint Barton, BAMF Tony Stark, Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Feels, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Angst, Bruce Banner Feels, Bruce Banner Has Issues, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Bullying, But Make Things Easier, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, I'll Warn You When We Get To That Point, IDK how Nat and Thor didn't end up in this but it was an accident, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It's Super Hidden In There, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Panic, Panic Attacks, Pop Culture References That Make Me Hate Myself, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Self-Harm, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, but like, just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-05-23 23:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14943275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCUsic_to_my_ears/pseuds/MCUsic_to_my_ears
Summary: Bruce Banner didn't go to middle school. Instead, his dissociated mind put Rick, his primary protector turned host, in charge. Upon reaching high school, though, he is suddenly running the show, at least part of the time, and is trusted with the friendship of Tony Stark. Life broadens, and his other alters begin to take part in it too.





	1. Rick

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, this is a high school AU wherein Bruce has DID, or multiple personalities, and as his comfort grows with Tony and some of his other friends, his alters come out more often in the presence of others. 
> 
> Also, there's lots of triggering material that will be written in the notes before each chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: very vivid bullying

"Watch it, dipshit!"

The teen's face turned bright red, but he just further hunched over the textbooks clutched in his arms. 

Tony gripped his backpack straps tighter. 

"... get the algebra homework done?"

Tony blinked at the dirty blonde. "I'm not in algebra one," he reminded.

"Oh, right," the taller teen chuckled, "Then can you take a-" Clint's mouth snapped shut.

"Honestly, Banner, I don't even know why you come to school anymore. Everyone would be way better off if you just ended it!" The broad-shouldered freshman mimicked a gun going off. 

"Hey!" Tony shouted. "Shut up man! Don't tell someone that!" 

"What's it to you, dumbass?" the linebacker sneered. 

"Don't tell someone to off themselves! It increases the likelihood by 78 percent," he shouted. 

"Like you even-"

"Like I even what? You end up doing a lot of research to figure out why the fuck you no longer have a sister!" 

The hallway pulsed, staring at the altercation. 

"Whatever," the future McDonald's chef muttered. His dumb friends followed him as he shouldered his way through the crowd. 

"Hey, get moving!" a teacher shouted, getting stuck in the crowd. 

The clumps of people began slinking off. Clint caught up to Tony, but Tony was pushing through the traffic and sidled up next to the red-faced teen. 

"Hey, it's Bruce, right?" 

The boy nodded, ducking behind his unruly curls. 

"I'm Tony."

"I know. Bio."

Tony beamed. 

"You didn't have to... we- I would've been fine. Dealing with that crap since grade school."

"Well. People shouldn't say that," Tony insisted. Clint had since disappeared, heading downstairs towards his math class.

"I'm sorry. About your sister. I know it doesn't help, but-"

"Oh, I'm an only child."

Bruce gave him a concerned glance. 

"Statistics and anecdotes and the best evidence against fuckwads. The first confuses and the second shuts them up."

Bruce smiled a little at that. 

"Well. Okay. Thanks. I guess I'll see you-"

"In bio. Where we're going now."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Here," Tony grabbed Bruce's hand and scrawled his phone number onto it in Sharpie. "In case that walking 70 point IQ bothers you again." 

"Okay."

Tony grinned a little.


	2. Robby

Despite only knowing Bruce for a month, Tony decided he really liked the dude. He loved science puns and strategy video games and correcting teachers under his breath and, for some reason, spending time with Tony. They'd ridden the bus to Tony's apartment and then to a nearby park one day after school. It was early Autumn, and the air was beginning to cool to the point where swings didn't burn to sit on and the grass was no longer reprieve from the hot asphalt, but instead a softer alternative. 

Bruce took to the idea immediately. It was like ten years of stress melted off his shoulders; he just suddenly looked so much younger. "Can we go to the swings?" Bruce asked excitedly. 

Tony lit up at his enthusiasm. "Sure! God, I haven't been on one of those since elementary school," he commented, a smile planted on his face. 

Bruce grabbed his hand—which was a bit uncharacteristic since Bruce usually shied away from physical contact—and raced with Tony over to the set. There were a few kids there, so Tony steered them to the far end. 

Bruce seemed a little upset about it, his arms dropping to his sides when he noticed the distance, but he didn't comment and his happy disposition returned once he began swinging. 

But apparently, Bruce was a lot clumsier than Tony had realized because Bruce's feet caught on the ground on one of his early swings up and he ended up on the mulch. 

Tears welled in his eyes, his face screwed up. But as quick as the expression appeared, it was replaced by a look of barely concealed confusion. Bruce touched his face and came away shocked when tears slid onto his fingers. He looked around, and when his eyes caught Tony's, he frowned. 

"Where-?" 

"Bruce?"

"No. I'm sorry, but no. I'm Rick. But Bruce is going to be so pissed at me."


	3. Bruce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dissociation tags come into play here!

Bruce was doing the thing where he stared at the same spot for a really long time and didn't make any indication that he could hear Tony. 

It wasn't either's favorite game. 

When Tony'd Googled it the first few times it happened, only a few days after the panic in the bathroom, he'd gotten explanations from seizures to schizophrenia. But recently, after learning about the others, Tony had realized that the first D in DID was at play here. 

So now he'd just sling an arm around Bruce's shoulder, and squeeze his hand. 

Sometimes Bruce wouldn't be the one to come back out. Sometimes one of the others would drift up and stiffen under Tony's grounding touch, and he would gently, politely release whoever it was and quietly reassure them that they were safe. 

Bruce came out on the other end this time. 

He burrowed his head into Tony's shoulder. "How long?" he mumbled.

Tony pulled Bruce's gray beanie down over his ears. 

"Not long," the taller teen promised. 

"Tones," Bruce protested, pulling away so that he could look at the other. 

"I didn't-"

"Don't lie."

"Eleven and a half minutes-" Bruce went pale. "But no one else came out," Tony rushed on, "It was just you, the whole time. I promise."

Bruce closed his eyes. "Okay." 

"I've got you," Tony reminded. 

The smaller teen smiled softly, "I know.


	4. Rosaline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter portrays a persecutor personality. Steve isn't sure how to deal with the personality shift and says some insensitive things.

"Hey, Bruce," Steve mumbled, sliding into the seat beside his friend. He scrubbed his hand over his eyes, trying to wake up a bit more. Whoever decided to make math his first hour had a special place in hell reserved for them. Steve was sure of that. 

"Steve." The word sounded foreign on Bruce's tongue and was spat out like it carried no meaning. 

The blonde teen blinked. "Um."

He looked over Bruce for a moment. He held himself stiffly, staring straight ahead. His backpack sat to his right, but it was unopened. Anger rolled off of him. 

"You okay?" Steve asked, busying himself with pulling out his math binder. 

Bruce didn't respond, continued staring straight ahead. 

"Do you feel okay? You look kind of sick..." Which was true. There was a light sheen of sweat on Bruce's forehead, and he looked extremely pale. 

"I'm fine," Bruce grunted. "Just don't want to be in this fucking body." His voice was like acid. And also, didn't sound like Bruce, who had a naturally lower voice. But he was talking. Well, almost like a girl.

Steve was a bit taken aback by the statement. "I'm... sorry."

Bruce huffed and kept his head dutifully forward. 

"Um... Can I help or anything?" the blonde tried again. 

Bruce shook his head. "Be quiet," he ordered. "I'm trying to get out of this testosterone-soaked hell-hole." He roughly unzipped his backpack and pulled out a cube that Steve had seen in Bruce's hand more than once. It had a bunch of little fidget sides, which Natasha had once mentioned was for anxiety. 

Bruce didn't seem anxious now. He seemed a bit murderous if Steve was being honest. 

"Okay," Steve breathed as the bell rang. Their teacher immediately jumped into the lesson. Bruce dutifully stared forward, making no move to open his backpack and get out his notes. His hands fiddled with the cube for about fifteen minutes, then their teacher asked them to work on a practice problem in small groups. 

"So, with this one—" Steve angled his notebook so that Bruce could read it. "—I was thinking that we... Bruce?" The teen in question was burning a hole into the paper with his eyes. 

"No, keep going, I think this will get things going," Bruce encouraged. 

"Yeah. Right, so if we use the congruent angle theorem, then we could." He cut himself off again.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look kind of spacey."

"Really? Good!"

Steve just stared. 

They didn't end up finishing the problem. The teacher moved on and Bruce kept staring straight ahead. 

"Concentrating on dissociating is such a fucking oxymoron," Bruce muttered in agitation a few minutes later. 

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Get a dictionary," he spat. 

Steve bit his lip. At lunch, Bruce was back to his normal self, smiling in his reserved way and privately joking with Tony. 

Whatever had taken Bruce over in the morning was clearly no longer bothering him. 

Steve smiled at that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter portrayed a persecutor personality. This chapter did not portray a "bad" alter. Rosaline is a complex character who has her own motivations/perspective as to why she is aggressive and mean. She does not represent every persecutor alter (she doesn't even represent every persecutor alter in this fictional system), but she does represent how some persecutor alters may act. 
> 
> If you want more information on how real systems work, look into Jeremy: An Alternate Perspective on YouTube. He's a protector alter who has really good explanations about DID in general and is also a bean.


	5. Bea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Lots of references to child abuse, sexual abuse, panic attacks, just some really bad stuff in general-- please please please read with care, this is probably one of the two heaviest chapters!

_ They'd been gone for a minute or two when I heard Brian weakly protesting _ .

Bruce blinked rapidly. 

Reality had just suddenly slipped slightly, tilted only a bit off its axis, but it was like tunnel vision overcame Bruce and his heart stuttered.

He lurched up from his seat, bile rising in his throat, and stumbled toward the door, wrenching the hall pass from its post. 

He flinched when the door slammed behind him, but then Rick was grabbing him by the shoulders and they were both slowly marching the body towards the bathroom. Rick held Robby at arm's length, where he thrashed at what he'd heard, and pushed Bruce's shaking legs onward. But the moment they were in the safety of the stall, door slamming but not locking, Bruce's hold crumbled and the body dropped like a pile of bricks. Robby fell with him, content that they were away from the perceived danger, but then Rick heard Bea wailing, clawing her way to the top. 

_ Oh, shit _ , was all he could think. Bea began to take the hands and dig the fingers into her skin in anguish, but Rick pulled control back. He scrambled for Bruce's phone, searching for the fourth and final contact listed:  _ Tony Stark _ . 

Bea's trembling fingers wrapped around the phone, but Rick once again removed them. 

'guys bathroom ela hall' he sent. 

Bea shook. 

'Plz'

Her breath heaved. 

'Help'

Rick fell back and Bea sobbed. 

She pushed back into the far corner, her tears sliding down the face. The fingers, so much bigger than she remembers, wrapped into the too short hair. 

Someone's coming. She knew it. She could hear the stomps, the violent slamming of each door as the shadow slowly neared her. 

She whimpered, trying to quiet herself. She reached for her brother, but Robby was hiding. 

Her breath caught, and she tried, but the sobs continued. 

The shadow opened the door and she couldn't make herself look. 

"Bruce?" The shadow's voice was so soft. But it didn't want her, no one did. 

"Hey, man, what's wrong?"

Her breath picked up, and Bea forced herself to glance up. Her watery eyes peered at the boy. 

He was so big, but, then again, she was too all the sudden. 

"Okay. Not Bruce." The shadow moved back a little. "Can you tell me who you are?"

The alter shook their head, crying harder. 

"Um, okay. So. I'm Tony. And I'm Bruce's friend, if we haven't met. I know you're really upset, and I really want to help you feel better, but I don't know what's wrong. Um, Bruce told me one time that he doesn't get panic attacks because he doesn't remember, so I guess you do, so. I'm really sorry. Um. My friend, Rhodey—he graduated—when I get panic attacks, he talks me through it. So. Breathing is really important. Like, probably the most. I'm not going to ask if you can hear me, because I hate it when people do that. So, um." 

Bea blinked up at him, fresh tears in her eyes, but the quiet rambling was softer than any blanket she'd ever felt. 

"Hurts," she begged. 

"Oh. Okay. What hurts?" The shadow, Tony, sat down on the floor across from her. 

"Mama" she whispered, dissolving back into sobs. 

"Oh God. Okay. Hi. Hi, I'm Tony. I know your mom is hurt. And I know that  _ that _ hurts. I'm really sorry if you remember. Um. Can you tell me your name? Please?"

She shook her head, breath coming out too quickly. She reached out for him blindly, and then the kind shadow scooped her up and cradled her in his arms. He shushed her for a while, rubbing her arms soothingly. "What's your name, kiddo?" he asked. Bea tried really hard to focus. 

She blinked away tears for a moment, thinking hard. 

"Buh-" She floundered a little, trying to make this mouth work like hers did. "Be-uh- um." She coughed, wiping the snot from her nose, tears streaming again. "Bea," she finally settled. 

"Alright, Bea." The shadow made to bounce her, but didn't complete the action. "Will you breathe with me? It would mean a whole lot," he promised. 

Bea nodded quickly, cuddling back into Tony. The older boy was holding her hand now, also holding her tight. It was nice to be kept safe both inside and out. 

The shadow began to count and she, with the help of the inside boy, breathed slower, until the older boy was picking her up and settling her back inside her bedroom, where the woman waited to hold her close. 

Rick shuddered into the body. 

Tony felt the change immediately, allowing Rick to carefully remove himself from Tony's grasp.

"You alright?"

Rick forced a smile. "Whenever... Bea gets on the surface," he shook his head. "She holds... a very difficult memory. When she comes out, we can all feel her pain. But. Rebecca—" Tony didn't ask. "—is with her now. And Bruce isn't. He's asleep." Rick sighed, wiping the last of Bea's tear from the eyes. 

Tony nodded, biting his lip. "Bea is. She's really young," he finally murmured, not sure how to broach the subject. 

Rick inclined his head, helping Tony to his feet. "Bea. Yes. Not the youngest in here. But. Yes."

"Is she. Does she-"

"Age?" Tony nodded. 

"No. Which is probably for the best."

"Oh." The taller teen looked away. 

"Well I. I better get the body to class before the teacher sends someone. Bye Tony. Thanks," he tagged on, conveying someone else’s thoughts, Tony decided. Rick exited the bathroom softly and Tony let his head slump back, wondering why friendship was always so complicated for him. 


	6. Hulk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: once again, references to child abuse

"So you set the stuff in the parentheses equal to 'x' and then get the 'x' by itself, like with all the others. It's just you're going to get a wide range of numbers. So for seven, you're going to get anything less than or equal to two," Bruce beamed. 

Clint studied the markings Bruce had added to his homework. "Why can't teachers use words like that, man? I swear, any time you say something, it just makes sense."

Bruce shrugged uncomfortably, ducking his head. He half-heartedly sketched a triangle on his paper, carefully labeling the sides. 

Clint didn't seem too interested in receiving thanks for his compliment, instead getting thoroughly distracted by the movie he'd thrown on. "My sister, Katie, freaking loves this thing. Not sure how she got so messed up, but," he'd given a 'What can you do' sort of gesture in explanation. 

Bruce kept glancing up at the screen in more frequent intervals, each time watching for a little while longer, eyes younger than normal. Clint got more into too, watching as DJ and Chowder hunkered down. Bruce smiled a little at their banter. 

Then, Chowder went up to the porch. It was fine at first, although Clint noticed that Bruce tensed, but then the House started up, the upstairs window glowing red, and Bruce lost it. 

As the floorboards rear up to drag Chowder in, Bruce is leaping forward and ripping out the cords that connect to the TV. He breathed loudly through his mouth, clutching his hair tightly. 

"Bruce?" Clint asked. "What's wrong? Too shitty of quality for you?" he joked. 

Bruce started rocking himself. "Bad," he muttered. "Bad. Bad!" 

"Woah! Okay. Maybe don't shout. My mom's downstairs and I really don't think you want her to join us."

His mouth set in a hard line. "Man, it's alright." He dragged the stray cords away from Bruce so he couldn't get tangled up in them. 

Clint stood up. Paced the room. Looked at Bruce. 

He stuck his hands into his pockets and pulled out his phone. He pulled up Spotify and found his Sleep playlist. Then he knelt down next to Bruce. 

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing," he murmured. Bruce flinched at his proximity. "But here goes."

He pulled Bruce against his chest, holding him close. 

"No want!" Bruce struggled against Clint. 

"What don't you want?"

"Room. Upstairs. Bad." Bruce pushed against Clint anxiously. "Bad, bad, bad."

Clint wet his lips. "It's okay," he soothed, reassuring himself of his grip on Bruce. 

On a whim, Clint picked his phone back up and found a playlist of all the Backyardigans songs and hit play. 

After a couple of moments of listening, Bruce went boneless. Clint shushed him softly as Bruce cried. 

Bruce wiped the tears from his eyes angrily. 

"Hey, you okay?"

"That's not a fucking kid's movie."


	7. Rebecca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: panic attacks

Bruce rapidly hit the 'A' button, cursing under his breath when his aim was still shit.

"Tony, cover me!" 

The other teen didn't respond. 

"Tony?" He paused the game and looked to his right, to find his friend with the controller clutched tightly in his hands, his entire body a clenched fist. His eyes were wide, unseeing. 

"Tones, listen to me-" But Bruce felt himself drifting back. He wasn't equipped for this and could feel his heart pounding in sync with Tony's. 

Rebecca gave him a sad smile before she took his place. 

"Tony, dear. It's alright," Rebecca soothed. The teen jerked when she placed a hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair. She didn't let that phase her. "I need you to breathe, love. Just a little."

Tony's eyes focused on her and he only felt his anxiety skyrocket.  _ That's not Bruce _ , his head pounded.  _ You don't know who that is! _

But his body slowly relaxed enough that he could get oxygen into his lungs. 

"That's it, dear!" Rebecca grinned. "Just a little more," she encouraged. Tony uncurled himself slightly, and grabbed at her right hand from his shoulder and pulled it toward his chest. 

"Oh my, dear, you are having a hard time, aren't you?" 

Tony made a harsh grunting noise, feeling his airways closing again. 

Rebecca pursed her lips in sympathy. "Let's not have any of that, sweetheart." She squeezed his hand, "Let's keep breathing, okay?" 

Tony nodded sharply, trying to regain control. He coughed a little. "Who?" He gasped, shoulders shaking with effort. 

"Shush now, dear. I'm Rebecca, if you're asking, and I simply couldn't stand to watch you in pain." She huffed a little, jutting her chin over Tony's head as she held him. "You boys," she murmured to herself, tears glistening in her eyes. 

They sat in silence for moment, listening to the kill screen music on the TV. Tony slowly felt his body relax, heartbeat slowing. "Thanks, Rebecca."

She smiled. "Of course, Tony. Anytime you need me, just holler." She pressed a light kiss on his sweaty hair. "I better go check up on the boys in here,"  she commented. 

"Oh. Okay."

She closed her eyes and reached a hand inward. Rick saw and pulled himself up. 

"You alright, Tony? he asked. 

Tony watched Rick for a moment. "Yeah," he finally answered. "Why the hell did you name her after his mom?"

Rick blinked. "We're born with names. And, honestly, I don't think Bruce's made the connection."

"Oh."


	8. Red Hulk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for references to self-harm! Stay safe my loves!

Perhaps watching  _ It _ at four in the morning with his mildly-traumatized best friend wasn't the best idea. But Tony didn't think these types of things through and Bruce wasn't an 'emotional part' according to Rick. Which didn't actually make sense to Tony, but he didn't let it bother him. 

Tony blinked, feeling his blanket being dragged away from him. The bathroom light flickered on.    
His brow scrunched in confusion as Bruce stumbled toward the door. 

"Bruce?" he yawned. "You in there?"

He was pretty sure they had fallen asleep in Tony's bed, but he might've been wrong. 

No one responded. Instead, Tony heard drawers slam open and shut. Frowning, he jiggled the doorknob, and pulled the door open, calling out, "You feeling okay?" wondering if Bruce was feeling ill due to the four bowls of popcorn they'd consumed and had been looking for Tums or something. 

But when the peeked into the bathroom, he found a very different situation at hand. 

Tony's hands fell to his sides. "Whatcha..." he cleared his throat a little. "What are you doing?"

One of the Not Bruce's stared back at him. "I think it's very probable we haven't met," Tony mumbled. "Um. I think- I would really appreciate it if you put that down."

Not Bruce unlatched the safety pin with a growl. 

"Oh. That's new." Tony took a steadying breath. "Okay. I don't know what happened. I don't know who you are, or where any of the others are right now since I feel like they would be very helpful, but. I guess I'll do.

"I'm Tony. And you need to put that down because hurting yourself isn't okay. Especially because you are sharing the body and so the others will have to deal with it too."

Not Bruce paused. Tony held out his hand. "Now. Please," he ordered. Not Bruce gave him a withering glare. 

"Now, or I will take it and um, trigger Bruce out by talking about chlorophyll."

Not Bruce seemed to be considering it, but that wasn't enough. 

Tony took his chance. He moved forward quickly and took the pin out of Bruce's hands. 

"Now, do you want to tell me what the hell that was?" 

Not Bruce frowned. "Science," he muttered. 

"What?"

"Banner. Science. Now," he mimicked. 

Tony blinked. "Don't think you're off the hook," he mumbled before launching into a lengthy discussion of semi-permeable cell walls.


	9. Joe

"Hey..." Tony stopped and studied the person before him. "I'm sorry, I can't tell." 

Whoever it was blinked at him for a second. 

"So, like, not Bruce, clearly. Um. Hi? Have we met?" 

They stared blankly at him. 

"Well, in case we haven't, I'm Tony, Bruce's friend. And kind of the rest of the system's friend. But like, I don't really know everyone all that well. Or at all, in your case. Probably." 

Finally, the personality glanced at him. "I know I'm... not alone. But. I'm sorry, you said you know them?"

"Yeah. You... don't?" 

The alter shook their head, glancing at Tony. "I just... woke up in this body. I don't look like this, I don't know you, I don't recognize anything in here. I woke up here, and I knew who I was, that I wasn't alone and that it was my job to keep the others safe. I don't know who the others are, but..."

They shrugged. 

Tony hummed in thought. "What's your name?" he finally asked. 

"What?"

"Your name." Tony finally sat down in front of the personality after leaning against the adjacent wall for the majority of their conversation. "You said you know who you are, and Rick—one of the others—once told me that you guys come equipped with names, so..."

"Oh. Right," the alter shifted uncomfortably. "I'm Joe."

Tony stuck out his hand, "Nice to meet you, Joe. Tony."

Joe grinned a little at that. 

They shook. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think maybe this might be a series but idk at this point.

**Author's Note:**

> More chapters to come! 
> 
> Thanks to my beta, Mxy!


End file.
